Monthly Archives: December 2024

This might be the richest, most beautiful story in all of Luke’s gospel, and, of course, only Luke knows it. That makes sense. It’s about Mary, after all, and another woman, and the hidden strength of those who are poor (like the child in Elizabeth’s womb).  Whew. It took us three years, but we are finally back to this profound gospel.

Think about this young girl. The mysterious angel has announced to her that she has been chosen to be the mother of God. And not only that, but to give her strength to believe, the angel tells her the extraordinary news that her aging, infertile cousin is now pregnant!

What does this loving young lady do next? She heads out immediately for the ninety-mile journey to the hill country of Judea to visit Elizabeth, and to stay with her to help her during her third trimester. And here’s where it gets really good. As she and Jesus—a tiny embryo in Mary’s womb—enter the house of Elizabeth and Zechariah, the six-month embryo in Elizabeth’s womb leaps for joy.

It’s the littleness of it all that gives it all away. Two women embrace, and the world is changed forever. And in that embrace, two tiny embryos touch, and the mighty power of God is unleashed. As Fr. John McKenzie, SJ, asked, “Could we believe that the promise God wove into our very souls might give birth to something big?” Out of the hidden smallness of Bethlehem rose the shepherd of all the world. We, the little of the world, wait, and trust. God is using our kernels of faith to build something to last until the end of time.

What little thing do you do each day that makes the world better?

Kathy McGovern c. 2024

Reflecting on Philippians 4: 4-7

Anxiety. Isn’t that the epidemic of our age? I read a story recently about a college student who couldn’t use her meal card because it had been torn, and she was too anxious to speak to the person in the office who could replace it. She wanted her mom to drive her meals to her dorm daily to save her from walking into the office and asking for a new card.

I have a feeling this story resonates with more people than we know. The challenge of looking someone in the eye and speaking to them is somehow so terrifying that those afflicted with crippling anxiety would rather isolate themselves than accomplish the normal interactions that are so vital to a happy life.

Compare this story to Paul’s letter to the Philippians, written around 62 AD, while Paul was in prison in Rome, awaiting execution. A Roman citizen, St. Paul knew that he would be spared the torture of the crucifixion with his Lord endured. Beheading was the normal mode of execution for those lucky enough to be citizens.

But still. He’s in chains in Rome. He knows that the next person at his door could be his executioner. And what does he write to his beloved little community in Philippi? Have no anxiety at all, but everything in prayer and supplication. From whence comes this serenity, this perfect peace?

That moment on the road to Damascus, of course, held him tight for the rest of his life. This is what I pray for all of us: that we might hold fast to the grace of our baptisms, and let that grace keep us in peace and strength.

How will you use this beautiful Advent season to allay anxiety?

Kathy McGovern ©2024  

Reflecting on Luke 3: 1-6

Ah, the tetrarchs of Rome. Remember them? Nope. Surely the High Priests have some inspiring words that have lived on in memory? Not really.

In the clamor and chaos of these “mighty rulers,” only one voice has survived the ages: the voice of the Baptizer. We can hear him even now, shouting in the wilderness to the throngs who’ve come to see this man with the garments of camel’s hair, eating locusts and wild honey. He preaches a baptism of forgiveness! And preaches HOPE to those who’ve walked in darkness for so long. What about him draws so many out to the dry, thirsty desert to hear him, and to be baptized in the Jordan River?

For that matter, fast forward just thirty years and listen to the words that St. Paul spoke to the Philippians so memorably: And this is my prayer, that your love may increase ever more and more. Think about that. He’s writing in chains in Rome (where he will eventually be beheaded), yet his warm letter to this little community is filled with HOPE that their work (and his) will be brought to completion in Christ Jesus.

Even Baruch, writing in the far exile of Babylon, is filled with HOPE that those “led away on foot by their enemies…will be brought back, borne aloft in glory.” We stop here to remember the hostages of October 7^th, and the 44,000 killed to avenge them.

The authors of these Advent readings commanded us to live in HOPE. Let’s take their strong words to heart. I will say that, in the cancer community, these things remain: faith, hope, and love. And the greatest of these is HOPE.

What HOPE do you share, through the witness of your life?

Kathy McGovern ©2024